


The Loompaland Log

by Sonny_April



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Discovery, Gen, Internal Conflict, Original Character Death(s), kinda violent at times, strange creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny_April/pseuds/Sonny_April
Summary: Follow Willy Wonka through his personal log as he experiences the strange, foreign, and very dangerous island of Loompaland, as well as the friendly tribe he discovers known as the Oompa-Loompas. This takes place in the 2005 movie universe. I do not ownCharlie and the Chocolate Factoryor any of the characters from it. Rated T for some violence and death.





	1. Logs 1-3

Log 1

I’ve decided to start writing a journal for now, since I am about to embark on a wonderful journey, and I want to make sure that I record all my travels.

It’s been about two years since I closed my factory and stopped producing candy for all the world to enjoy, and I already miss it. I’ve decided to open my factory once again, because I want to continue bringing joy and wonder to the world. It’s my inspiration. It’s what gives me life. It’s my passion, and I can’t simply quit doing it.

I haven’t quite figured out how I would go about the whole reopening thing, though. Obviously, hiring workers to come work for me again is out of the question, since that’s the reason I closed my factory in the first place. I guess I could run my entire factory with robots. Yes, they would take away from its charm with their soulless nature, but it’s still better than the alternative.

I’ve also decided that if I were to reopen, I’d want to come up with some super cool new flavors to introduce to the world and re-dazzle them from the get-go. Because of this, I’ve decided to travel to a little known island in the Indian Ocean called Naboubaya. From what I’ve heard, it’s home to the most exotic and delicious flavors on the planet—perfect for a new line of candy. Its coordinates are roughly 12°S 78°E, but I don’t know what that means since I don’t know anything about navigation. I’m just writing what I was told.

Luckily, this entire mission will be kept secret by the government, so the public won’t know a thing about it. I’ll be taking a flight in a private jet from Gumpshire, Massachusetts, where my lovely factory resides, to Kanyakumari, the southernmost town of India. I’ll rendezvous with a man by the name of Carl Samson, who is the captain of the tramp steamer, the SS Albatross. He says it's a very old ship, but it still works well. He supposedly has a crew of eight with him. From then, we’ll make our way to Naboubaya. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 2

Well, here we are. I’m currently on the SS Albatross on our way to Naboubaya, and boy, is it boring! There’s seriously _nothing_ to do on this ship, the rough waves causing the ship to sway back and forth are giving me nausea, and the stench of rotting fish isn’t helping with that either. What am I doing on a crummy boat like this? I’m Willy Wonka! I shouldn’t be in this situation. But sadly, this is all we could manage without causing any attention to ourselves or making anyone suspicious.

Carl is a fine enough fellow, a little rough around the edges, though. The other eight crew members are Kavi, Baladeva, Mahesha, Amrit, Durai, Isha, Kumar, and Navin—all locals from India. Hopefully they can be of help when we finally reach the island. None of us have actually been to Naboubaya, so it’s going to be a new experience for us all. I think it would’ve helped if we had at least _one_ crew member who was somewhat familiar with the island, though. All we have is just a map of the island. We also have very large crates stored onboard to transport all the goods we’ll find on Naboubaya.

Well, nothing else of any significance is really happening right now; I’ve only been writing in this because there’s nothing else to do. I’ll write again when something interesting actually happens. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 3

Well, I have some really bad news right now. You see, last night, there was an extremely harsh sea storm that we were caught in. Horrible sea storm. The waves towered above the ship before completely submerging it for a few moments until it resurfaced again. The winds were so powerful, I’m sure they would’ve blown us off the ship had we not been inside. The storm was so bad that it took us completely off course. Then, to make matters worse, our boat crashed into a bunch of sharp rocks.

I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do remember waking up inside the completely wrecked boat this morning. The rocks sure did a lot of damage. Carl said the damage done to the boat is irredeemable, so that certainly didn’t make me feel better.

Once we went outside the boat, we realized that we had crashed near a shore of an island. I thought at first that we had reached Naboubaya, but Carl found out using his navigation tools that we're miles and miles away from it. In fact, he said the island we landed on is completely uncharted. That means we could very well be the first people to set foot on this island. How do you like that?

Because the island is uncharted, we have no idea how large it is or any of its geographical features. There is, however, a very dense jungle just along the shore. We have no idea what lies in there, but the eight crew members and I are planning to enter the jungle in search of some flavors I can still use for my candy. Carl said he just wanted to stay with the boat in hope that another ship will come by to rescue us. We still have plenty of food with us, so that’s not a problem yet. I only hope we’ll get off this island before it _does_ become a problem. Anyways, I’m going to start my jungle trek with the others now. I’m even wearing my safari outfit for the occasion—complete with pith helmet and all. I’ll write back in a little while to catch you up on the events. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	2. Logs 4-5

Log 4

Where do I even begin with this? All my thoughts are rushing through my head a million miles a second, and I don’t even know how to express them through words. Okay. I’ll start from where I left off, I guess.

The eight crew members and I began our journey through the jungle, and even then, I was intimidated by the sheer density of the jungle. The thick fog didn’t help matters either. After about maybe twenty minutes of trekking through the forest, we came across a huge chasm. Growing on both sides of the chasm were large trees that hung over the wide gap with thousands of long vines dangling downwards into the abyss. Going all the way across the wide chasm was a bridge made of wooden planks and held together with vines. This was an amazing discovery for all of us, because it could only mean one thing: there are other people on this island. Or, at least, there had been other people on this island at one point in time. The thought of that only raises so many more questions. Who are these people? Are they natives? Are they stranded on this island just like us? Are they friendly? Are they not? Are any of them even still alive? We have no idea, but we had to cross the bridge anyways.

We all stepped onto the bridge with great trepidation, one at a time. We were actually doing pretty well. Halfway across, and the bridge was still in good condition; however, suddenly, one of the wooden boards started to crack. Then another one. Then another one. Soon, the whole bridge started crumbling beneath our feet! Our whole crew was now falling into the abyss! Luckily, though, we were able to grab onto the long vines on our way down. I slid the rest of the way down on one of the vines until I was about five feet off the ground, then I just jumped. Everyone else luckily made it down safely as well. That is…except for two: Amrit and Durai. We quickly found out what had happened to Amrit—he never managed to get hold of one of the vines and fell to his death. We stared at his lifeless body that laid before our eyes. It was so utterly disturbing I can’t even describe it through words.

Not to detract from that loss, but even more disturbing was what had happened to Durai. We heard him shouting for us, and we looked up to see that he was completely entangled in the vines above us. There was no way for any of us to help him from how far down we were, but we told him to cut himself loose with his machete. He took it out from his backpack and cut the vines off from his other arm. Then he cut off the vines that were wrapped around his two legs. There were two vines still around him: one around his waist and one around his neck. He mistakenly cut the one around his waist first before anyone could warn him, and he was hanged by the last remaining vine around his neck.

It was just such a horrible experience. I had never really dealt with death before—the only family member to die in my life was my mother, but it was when I was too young to even know her that well. I had no friends that died, fortunately, and I never had any pets, so I hadn’t experienced so much as a pet’s death either. I guess I’m lucky in that sense, but, boy, what a way to be first exposed to such a horrible event. Yes, it’s true that I didn’t know neither Amrit nor Durai very well, but their deaths still impacted me just as much as if I had. This is the first time in my life that it really dawned on me that I’m mortal—like I could actually die. Before, death had always been a nebulous idea for me—always there, but never really having to acknowledge it. That’s all changed now. Death seems like such high possibility at this point, I don’t even want to think about it anymore.

After that horrible encounter, we walked further along the bottom of the chasm, which eventually turned into more jungle. We completely exhausted ourselves from walking when we finally decided to set up camp for the night. Since then, it’s just been a moment of silence for Amrit and Durai and time for self-reflection, which is why I wrote in here. Anyways, I think that’s enough for now. Tomorrow, we’re going to have to find a way out of this jungle and get back to the beach before Carl starts worrying about us if he hasn’t already. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 5

At this point, I seriously think I could be killed any moment, so I’m writing this knowing that it may be the last thing I write. If that’s the case, I at least want to recount the events that have just transpired.

The six remaining guys and I continued to trek through the dense forests in the morning after a dreadful night’s sleep. I’m serious, I barely slept at all; I was so disturbed about what had happened yesterday. Also, all throughout the night, we continuedly heard strange noises coming from the deep jungle. We didn’t find out what those strange noises were until the morning as we cut through overgrown foliage. They came from massive insects—dragonflies and cockroaches each about a foot long, centipedes about ten feet long, and so on and so forth. We even noticed large snails climbing up the trunks of enormous trees. It felt like we had entered a primeval world.

Luckily, the repulsive creatures never interfered with us or got too close; however, as Baladeva was leading the group through the forest, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” I asked from behind.

“I’m stuck! I can’t move!” he panicked.

Everyone was trying to figure out what had happened to him, and we soon noticed that he had been caught in a gigantic spider web! Kavi tried to free him by cutting down the web, but the fibers of the web were so strong that his machete actually _broke_ when struck against them!

Then, slowly creeping down from the high treetops came a humongous spider—probably seven feet long! I couldn’t even believe it—it seemed like something from a movie or a fantasy, not real life! It made me question if I even _was_ still in real life or if I was maybe dreaming or going crazy. Either of those would have made more sense than it actually occurring in front of me, but it was. The spider slowly made its way down the web and towards Baladeva, and everyone took out their guns to start shooting at it, but to no avail. It must have had an extremely tough, armor-like exoskeleton because the bullets were just bouncing off from it. Some of the guys even tried striking it with their machetes, but that only aggravated the creature. There was nothing we could do but watch as the spider spun Baladeva inside a web sack before it finally ate him.

This was even more horrifying than what happened to Amrit and Durai; however, we had no time to really take in what we just saw because soon enough, we noticed other gigantic spider webs all around us and other humongous spiders descending from the treetops, ready to catch one of us as a meal. We ran as fast as we could around each of the spider webs while still being careful not to run into them.

Out of nowhere, though, a spider leapt out from a trapdoor burrow, snatched Kavi, and dragged him back in! I felt so terrified for my life, I couldn’t even think straight—all my mind was thinking was, “Just keep running!”

Fortunately, we eventually seemed to be clear of any giant spiders. We were all so exhausted after that, so we decided to rest for a little bit before we continue. That’s when I started to write in here again.

I feel not only horrified and extremely vulnerable now, but also kinda guilty. I let Baladeva take the lead instead of myself, and that’s why _he_ was the one who got trapped in the web. _I’m_ the one that brought everyone on this journey, _I_ should’ve been the guy who got eaten by the spider. Not only that, but I didn’t even do anything to help him get out of the spider web. It was all the other guys who tried shooting at it and tried to break the web, and how were they paid back? One of them gets eaten by spider. All I did was stand around like a coward. Quite frankly, I don’t think I deserve to be alive at this point.

Sorry I have to end this so abruptly, but it seems like we’re moving on now, so I’ll write back later. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	3. Logs 6-7

Log 6

You know what, I’m not even going to bother with introductions anymore. I’ll just cut to the chase.

Our now group of five continued to venture through the foggy jungles—now more fearful for our lives than ever. Something strange began to happen, though: we noticed that the fog gradually started turning a magenta color. This seemed suspicious to everybody, so Kumar volunteered to go ahead of us to make sure that it was safe. I pleaded for him not to since I felt so guilty about what happened to Baladeva, Amrit, Durai, and Kavi, but he insisted; there was nothing I could do to stop him. He knew the risk he was taking but still wanted to do it for the good of us. I offered to go with him, but he still strongly insisted that I stay behind.

About fifteen feet into the magenta-colored fog, everything seemed to be alright. He stood around for about half a minute in the fog, and since everything appeared to be okay, he signaled for us to follow him. As we walked further into the fog, we realized that it was being emitted from these beautiful purple flowers, and it actually smelled quite wonderful; however, I heard Kumar starting to breath heavily. “Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Yes, yes,” he insisted. But everything wasn’t alright, because he started breathing even heavier before he collapsed to the ground.

“Kumar! Kumar! What happened?” I asked, but there was no response from him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the enormous jaws of a carnivorous plant emerged from the foliage and consumed Kumar’s unconscious body! I know I’ve been saying this a lot, but I truly mean it: I could not believe what just happened! It feels like I’m living through the fictitious legends of old explorers, except they’re actually real!

After we had just witnessed that, we ran out of the magenta fog as fast as we could. We soon realized, though, that that might not have been the best idea, since running means faster breathing, which means breathing in more of the toxic fumes. We fortunately all made it out, but we were all a little woozy afterwards.

Now, I’m no biologist, but I can tell you that what we had seen was the most complex form of plant life on the planet. I believe the flowers and the snap trap were all part of one plant—the flowers emit a sweet-smelling but toxic perfume, which attracts creatures and causes them to asphyxiate, then I’m guessing perhaps there are sensors underground that sense the “thud” of the body against the ground, which activates the trap to come out and eat the body.

That wasn’t the end of it, though. You see, as we continued through the forest, another carnivorous plant lunged out from the bushes and got ahold of Isha’s arm! This plant was a lot quicker and stronger, which is probably why it didn’t need the aid of a toxic gas. Isha was struggling with it, but it eventually tore his arm clean off! It was absolutely terrifying, just as everything else up to that point had been. A vine then wrapped around his leg and started pulling him into the jaws of another plant, but I finally worked up the initiative to cut the vine using my machete. I felt so proud after that! I actually saved this guy’s life! Sadly, though, my joy did not last long; as Isha was getting back up, another vine wrapped around his chest, lifted him up through the air, and dropped him into the mouth of another plant.

With Isha’s gruesome death taking place before our eyes, Navin was feeling a little light-headed and off-balance, so he grabbed onto a hanging vine for support; however, the vine then wrapped around his arm and pulled him all the way up to another pair of hungry plant jaws resting in the treetops.

This was another case where we just decided to run for it as fast as we could. Several plant traps just barely missed us as we ran by. As we were running, Mahesha and I, the only survivors, slipped into a strange, slimy pit. As we were falling down the slippery slope of the pit, I realized that it was actually the large mouth of a creature! I seriously thought this was the end for us, but, miraculously, some sort of person in the treetops threw a rudimentary bomb into the mouth of the creature, causing it explode in the most spectacular way. The force of the explosion lifted us out of the pit, and, luckily, we weren’t injured from it.

I looked to see who it was that threw the bomb, but they quickly disappeared into the trees. From the quick glimpse that I got, though, it appeared to be a child, judging from its short stature. This was clear evidence that there are in fact people currently living on this island. It’s still unclear if they are friendly or not, though. Did it throw the bomb to save us from that pit monster, or was that bomb intended for _us_? I’m kinda hoping we make it off this island before I find that out, but as of now, I’ll be lucky if I make it past tonight.

Now it’s just me and Mahesha. We’re now resting for the night, but I doubt I’ll get any sleep. I witnessed _five_  deaths today! _Five_! Not to mention that each one was gruesome beyond belief. I can barely believe them, and I saw them with my own eyes! Even when I did try to help one of them, he still got killed. Some help I am. Should I have pleaded even harder for Kumar not to go ahead of me? Was there any way I _could’ve_ saved the victims of the carnivorous plants, or were they just in a hopeless situation? I honestly can’t think of a good answer for any of these questions.

I mean, what kind of a place is this? It’s no wonder why no one knows about this island; if people _have_ traveled here before, they were probably all killed off. I’m now scared that something could just jump out in the middle of the night and kill us at any second. It wouldn’t be outside the realm of plausibility at all. How can I sleep in these conditions? The answer is, I can’t. And I won’t. I’m not even tired anyways. But I guess I should be winding down this entry, so if I’m even alive by tomorrow, I’ll fill you in on whatever happens, because, trust me, something _will_ happen. Until then, (if I’m still alive) Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 7

Well, since I’m writing this now, it’s obvious that we survived past the night, so there’s a good thing. I think I even fell asleep for a little bit, which is good I guess, so I won’t feel as tired today.

We continued to find our way back to the beach when, suddenly, tragedy struck once again. Mahesha stepped on what appeared to be solid ground, but was actually quicksand. He started panicking and moving his legs quickly, trying to get out, but that only made him sink quicker. “Stop moving!” I told him. “It’ll only make you sink faster!” I tried using branches for him to grab onto, but it was no use—the quicksand was too strong. Mahesha had already sank up to his shoulders at this point! “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do! I can’t just let you die, though. What am I supposed to do? I’ll go in and die with you. How ‘bout that?” I told him.

“Willy!” Mahesha said. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Don't kill yourself just because _I'm_ going to die. It's not your fault. Don't do it.”

“Okay. But now what do I do?”

“Just go. Leave me. I’ve accepted my fate. I just don’t want you to endanger yourself trying to save me.”

“O-okay,” I said quietly as I reluctantly walked away from him, now only his head above the surface.

And now we come to where I am now—lost in the jungle, alone, scared, and terribly guilty. Why me? Why, out of everybody else, was I the one who survived thus far? I don’t think I deserve to be the last one standing. I think I deserve the worst out of everyone. I’m the reason everyone was stranded on this island and killed. That is, except for Carl. I’m not even sure how he’s doing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been killed also. I can’t believe it. I indirectly killed at least eight people by bringing them all on this expedition in the first place. _I’m_ the one who should have been killed first and foremost. Maybe I’ll just go feed myself to one of those carnivorous plants and end my suffering.

No. What am I saying? Did I really just write that? Did I really just think that? I can’t kill myself. Not now that I’ve gotten this far. True, I indirectly had a hand in these eight deaths, but it’s not like I actually played a part in any of them. I never had any malevolent intentions. In fact, I did the best that I could to save them. I’m not sure if there is a God, but there must be at least some superior force above me that decided that _I_ should be the one to survive. I must be here for a purpose. What that purpose is, I’m not sure, but I _am_ sure I’m going to find out.

Okay…so I’m not going to end my life. Now what? I don’t know the first thing about survival. I guess I’ll just do what we were doing before and just try to find my way back to the beach. Only problem is everyone who had any sort of navigation tool got killed, so I have no idea where to go. I’m just praying that something doesn’t kill me at this point. I guess if I continue to survive, I’ll continue to write. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	4. Logs 8-9

Log 8

As I cautiously ventured deeper into the jungle, I suddenly remembered my purpose for going on this expedition in the first place: to find exotic, new flavors for my candy. Following this, I started sampling some things that I came across. For example, there were these bright blue flowers hanging down from this tree. They looked beautiful, but they didn’t taste nearly as nice. There was also some strange fungus, but I took one whiff, and I dared not even try it.

After that, I started to hear a loud buzzing sound coming from behind me. I turned around and saw a scarily big insect flying above me, about a foot long. It also had a dangerously large stinger, so I made sure I got out of there as fast as I could. Unfortunately, unlike fog or carnivorous plants, large bugs are not as easy to run away from. Finally, as it dived towards me, I decided to just slice it in half with my machete! I was quite surprised with my skillful kill. I then licked its purple blood off from my machete, but I didn’t think that was very well suited for candy either. Reflecting on it now, though, I guess it wasn’t a very wise decision to go around sampling things willy-nilly after knowing quite well how dangerous this place can be. I’m super lucky none of those things I tried were poisonous.

Then, we come to my most amazing discovery thus far. As I cleared through the bushes, I stumbled into a strange village with little spherical treehouses all around connected by bridges. Walking around in these canopies were strange, little people—only about thirty inches high. Not only that, but they all look exactly the same, as if they’re all clones of each other. It’s the most bizarre thing. They all have a dark complexion, black hair, brown eyes, and exactly the same face. All of them wear grass skirts and headdresses made of grass and feathers. They didn’t seem to notice me at first, but when they did, I saw them stop in their tracks and whisper to one another.

They eventually all managed to climb down from their treetop village to come greet me in a most wonderful way: bowing down before me. I was quite humbled by this gesture, so I tried telling them that they needn’t worship me, but it was immediately evident that they didn’t speak English. I attempted to shake hands with one of them, but he cowered away from me, most likely intimidated in my presence, so I crouched down on my knees to get to their level. This seemed to instill the idea that I’m not as mighty as I appear, which I furthered by talking in a soothing, quiet voice.

Eventually, they realized that I’m not a superior being, and they were a bit more comfortable with me, so they lead me up to their treehouses—specifically, where the chief resided. I must admit, I was quite honored that they thought me worthy of meeting the chief so soon. The chief had a very stoic presence, but he was really quite friendly.

He took a stone bowl full of strange caterpillars and started smashing them. He then offered me the bowl of green caterpillar blood and caterpillar guts. Obviously, this did not look appetizing in the slightest, but not wanting to be rude, I only shook my head politely at the offer. He was quite persistent, though, as he insisted that I take the bowl. I did so, just to please him, and smelled its contents. Needless to say, it didn’t smell nice. I reluctantly dipped my finger into the green blood and put some of it in my mouth. It was quite honestly the most disgusting and bitter thing I’ve ever tasted in my life, but I only politely offered the bowl back to him. He actually smiled, which was good since it meant he wasn’t offended that I didn’t eat more of it.

The chief pointed to himself saying, “Oompa-Loompa.” He then pointed to other tribe members saying, “Oompa-Loompa.” I think he was telling me that the people of this tribe are called Oompa-Loompas.

I then pointed to myself saying, “Willy Wonka.” He called me Willy Wonka back, and I nodded to let him know that he was correct.

That night, the Oompa-Loompas set up a magnificent bonfire on the forest floor and performed wonderful song and dance. I believe they did all that just to impress me, as they were constantly looking to see if I was enjoying it, which I was. They did use some instruments—mainly drums and rattles—but they mostly sang as their source of music. I must say, they are quite wonderful singers.

I’m so delighted that I came across these wonderful people. They’re the first things I’ve come across on this island that don’t want to kill me. They even made me my own treehouse for me to sleep in and protect me from the fierce creatures of the jungle. I love these people. I feel like I have a connection to them for some reason, even though I’ve just met them. I’m so excited just thinking that I’ll be able to get a decent night’s sleep for once. Although it looks like I’m going to have to get used to those caterpillars, because that seems to be the only thing to eat around here. I’m also excited to see what we’ll be doing tomorrow and to continue to learn about these wonderful people’s culture. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 9

I woke up around noon today, which was kind of surprising. I guess I had a lot of sleep to recover after these last few days. I looked around to see where the Oompa-Loompas were, but a lot of them weren’t at the village. It was quite weird, but I eventually found some Oompa-Loompas inside their treehouses. It appears that all of the Oompa-Loompas that stayed behind were the females, since they had slightly larger breasts and wider hips than the others, and they were all taking care of their children in their homes. (Keep in mind, though, that the females still have the exact same faces as the males, despite the minor differences in body shape. Neither gender has facial hair.)

Some of the women went down to the forest floor carrying jugs (which they call “mub-mubs”), and I decided to follow them to wherever they planned on going. It turns out that that place was the bank of a river to refill their water supply.

They were just peacefully filling up their jugs with river water when one of them unfortunately leaned too far out into the river and fell in. I tried reaching out for her, but the current from the river was way too strong. There were some vines up ahead that were dangling down into the water, so the other Oompa-Loompas told her to grab onto one of them. She did so, and everything seemed to be alright, but then the vine rose up from the water, and it turned out that it wasn’t a vine at all—it was a snake! A large, long, green python. It wrapped its lengthy body around her, constricting and choking her until she was no longer breathing, and it ate her whole. The other women started crying, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start crying as well.

After that tragedy had occurred, the Oompa-Loompas quickly recuperated and continued their normal chores. They returned to the village and told the other women what had happened. There was some more crying, but the other women eventually got their jugs and went to fill them up with water themselves. I was quite amazed that even after something like that happens, the Oompa-Loompas never slow down in productivity.

Later in the day, all the men Oompa-Loompas returned to the village carrying baskets full of the same green-and-yellow-striped and red-and-white-striped caterpillars I had eaten yesterday. That seems to be their main source of food.

The tragic news eventually spread to the men as well, so later that night, a ceremony was held in the deceased Oompa-Loompa’s honor. A bonfire was made, and, even though I don’t understand their language very well as of yet, from what I could tell, all the other Oompa-Loompas were sharing their fondest memories of the Oompa-Loompa who had died today. To my surprise, though, the ceremony quickly took an optimistic turn, as the Oompa-Loompas started singing and dancing joyously in this Oompa-Loompa’s honor. It was quite the sight to behold.

I think these people have helped me with dealing with death. I’ve been having a really tough time getting over the deaths I had witnessed in my time here, but the Oompa-Loompas taught me to not dwell on the tragedy so much, but rather the good moments you had with them. True, I didn’t have a lot of good moments with the men who were killed on this journey, but they’ve still taught me to not grieve over death so much.

After the ceremony, things started to wind down, and here we are with me snugly situated in my little treehouse, ready to get a goodnight’s sleep once more. Until next time, Willy Wonka.


	5. Logs 10-11

Log 10

Today, I decided to join the men Oompa-Loompas to observe a regular day in the life of one. We got up fairly early in the morning, then we all made our way to the forest floor. We ventured out into the jungle for a little bit until we came to the shore of a lake. Resting on the shore was a big, long boat carved out of wood and decorated with vibrant pigments. It looked similar to a Viking ship to be quite honest—with its long, narrow shape; an ornamental animal head on one end; and an ornamental tail in the shape of a swirl on the other end. The head resembled a seahorse of sorts. The Oompa-Loompas dragged the boat into the water, then got into the boat themselves. I sat in an empty seat in the back of the boat. Fifty-two Oompa-Loompas total rowed the boat using massive oars. Two Oompa-Loompas handled each of the oars in the front row, and three Oompa-Loompas handled each of the oars in the following eight rows. All of the Oompa-Loompas faced the back of the boat as they were rowing. At the head of the boat, also facing the back, was a single Oompa-Loompa repeatedly beating a large drum to keep a rhythm for the rowing Oompa-Loompas. They rowed the boat across the lake to the other side.

Once on the other side, they all dragged the boat onto the shore, set down their oars, and took out empty baskets they had stored on the boat. Then, for most of the day, they went about, scourging the jungle for caterpillars. I guess the caterpillars are more concentrated in this area than near their village, hence all the effort to get here. They also harvested these little, red beetles, as well as the bark of this one type of tree they call “bong-bong”.

It took nearly all day, but they finally filled their baskets with either caterpillars, beetles, or bark, so it was time to head back to the village. The Oompa-Loompas dragged the boat into the lake once again, and they all hopped aboard. As one of the Oompa-Loompas settled in, however, he accidentally dropped his basket overboard into the lake. He stood up and was about to jump in the water, but other Oompa-Loompas told him not to. He didn’t listen, though, and he jumped into the lake anyways. He grabbed the basket and placed it back in the boat, but as he was about to get out of the water, he was dragged back under! He resurfaced a couple times, frantically reaching out for something to grab onto, but he finally got pulled underneath the water, never to resurface. I didn’t get a good look at what had gotten him—at first I thought it was a shark of some sort—but as I looked closer, it looked like a large, piranha-like fish. It had shiny green scales, bright red eyes, and powerful jaws with razor-sharp teeth. All the Oompa-Loompas onboard (and I) started panicking, but everyone eventually collected themselves, and they rowed back to the other side of the lake.

Once we arrived back at the village, the men told the women and children what had happened. Everyone was deeply saddened.

The events that followed were very similar to yesterday: a ceremony was held in honor of the unfortunately deceased Oompa-Loompa, then everyone made their way back to their treehouse. So I guess until next time, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 11

Well, it’s been about a week since the last time I’ve written in here, so I think I’m due for a log. I’ve learned a lot since last time. For example, I’m starting to get a basic grasp of the Oompa-Loompese language. “Hello”, for instance, I learned is “famboo”. “Goodbye” is “binshah”. “Thank you” is “pimtoo malay”. I also learned that “Oompa-Loompa” itself means “people of the forest”. “Oompa” means person or people, and “Loompa” means “forest”. They call the island they live on “Loompashima”, meaning “land of the forest”. Taking this into consideration, I will dub the English name of this island to be “Loompaland”. This is just scratching the surface of what I’ve learned about their language so far, but I think you get the gist of it.

I also learned more about the Oompa-Loompa’s diet. As I have mentioned before, they feast on green-blooded caterpillars, red beetles, and the bark of the bong-bong tree; however, after exploring other parts of the jungle with the harvesters, I learned that they also collect strange, round, red-violet colored berries. They call them “snozzmingos”, and with “mingo” being their word for “berry”, their English name would be “snozzberry”. Actually, since “snozz” means “powerful” in their language, the literal translation would be “powerful berry”. I soon realized why they’re called that after I tasted them—they have a very strong taste. It certainly is an exotic and acquired taste, but the Oompa-Loompas seem to enjoy them to make their caterpillars taste better. I guess when your diet is based on those disgusting caterpillars, anything will taste good in comparison. The Oompa-Loompas also harvest the leaves of a plant they call “pixa”. Chewing on the leaves gives them an energy boost, but they also ground up the leaves into a fine powder and mix it with their caterpillar mush for the same effect.

Another thing that has happened this past week—another attack. This time, from a creature I had not even seen up to this point in my travels—a creature they call the “snozzwanger”, which roughly translates to “powerful killer”. It’s an awful reptilian beast about ten feet long (including its tail), resembling a Komodo dragon, but with dorsal spines and a dewlap like an iguana. It has the ability to change its skin pigmentation to blend in with its surroundings as camouflage, like a chameleon. It also has retractable neck frills that it raises whenever it attacks, like a frilled-neck lizard, and it attacks by spraying venom at its prey, like a spitting cobra.

As you can see from what I described, this is quite a dangerous and terrifying creature, so you can imagine the fear I felt when I first witnessed its presence. It was when I went out with the men to go gather some more food. They were gathering some snozzberries when the large reptile emerged from the bushes. I was luckily out of spitting range from the snozzwanger, but other Oompa-Loompas weren’t as lucky. The beast erected its neck frills and sprayed its venom on several Oompa-Loompas. They tried to run away, but only managed to run a few feet before collapsing to the ground, convulsing violently. The snozzwanger then started to feast on their bodies, but I couldn’t bear to watch any more of it, so I fled back to the village with the rest of the men.

It was a pretty scary experience, but the Oompa-Loompas speak of creatures supposedly just as dangerous as the snozzwanger. I dread the day I come face-to-face with those guys. Sadly, I believe that’s a “when”, not an “if”. But anyways, I think it’s time I bring this log to a close, so I’ll fill you in later when I have more stories to tell. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	6. Logs 12-13

Log 12

Well, it’s the next day since my last log, and there were two more tragic attacks today. I haven’t felt this threatened for my life since before I met the Oompa-Loompas. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why they made me so comfortable in the first place; they’re just as susceptible to the dangers of this island as I am.

Anyways, the first attack occurred in the morning, when we were rowing across the lake to get more food. Out from the sky came a huge bird, and it swooped down and snatched an Oompa-Loompa in each of its two talons. I believe they were Gringoo and Lumee; I’m getting better at identifying individual Oompa-Loompas.

The bird was a monstrous creature they call a hornswoggler, which means “winged terrorizer”. It resembled a vulture, since it had a bald head with gray skin and a white neck ruff. It had blue-violet feathers; a wingspan of about twelve feet; a sharp, yellow beak; and yellow talons that resembled those of an eagle. The Oompa-Loompas say that hornswoggler attacks are actually quite common, and that I was lucky to not witness one until just today. Thankfully, I think I’m a bit too big for hornswogglers to carry.

The second attack occurred this afternoon, once everyone was back at the village. Now I realize the importance of the treehouses, because two Oompa-Loompas—Mishoo and Uneef, I believe—went down to the forest floor to refill their water supply only to be threatened by the most ferocious beast of Loompaland, the whangdoodle.

Whangdoodle means “death beast” in the Oompa-Loompas’ language, and it’s no wonder why. It looks like a saber-toothed tiger—long, razor-sharp upper canine teeth and bob tail included—and it’s about eight feet long. It has a golden coat with brown, tiger-like stripes.

Another Oompa-Loompa, Hoosoo, leapt down from the treehouses carrying a spear and tried to defend the other two from the beast, but sadly, the whangdoodle managed to kill them all anyways. I don’t even want to describe how the whangdoodle killed them, because it’s far too graphic, and I can barely manage to recount the events in my head, let alone write them down.

Once again, I started to feel a bit guilty. All I did while this was going on was just watching from above in one of the treehouses. I’m bigger than all the Oompa-Loompas; _I_ should’ve been the one to defend them from the whangdoodle, not Hoosoo. But then again, none of the other Oompa-Loompas did anything but watch and scream in terror as this was all going on, so I guess I shouldn’t beat myself up too hard.

I want to end this log on a high note, though, so I’ll quickly say that now that I’ve gotten pretty good at learning the Oompa-Loompas’ speaking language, they’re starting to teach me their sign language. I was a bit surprised to learn that they had both a speaking and sign language, but I guess the former is used more for public affairs, and the latter is used for more private or one-on-one affairs. I’m learning pretty quickly, so that’s always good. Anyways, I think I’m going to turn in for the night, so I’ll write back later. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 13

Well, today, which is the day after I wrote my last log, the Oompa-Loompa men went deep inside the jungle to go harvest some wingochangas in case of any more whangdoodle attacks like yesterday. Wingochangas are these large, blue, spherical fruits that actually explode when lit with fire. It was what the Oompa-Loompas used to save me and Mahesha when we were slipping into that large mouth-pit, which the Oompa-Loompas call “hispmahs”.

As we were out harvesting wingochangas, though, I noticed that several Oompa-Loompas started to gather around this one tree. I joined them to see what all the fuss was about, I looked up the tree they were all mesmerized by, and I saw three brown cocoa pods. I had never seen such a tall cocoa tree before, but boy, was it a great sight to behold.

Jeembo, one of the Oompa-Loompas, climbed up the tree and picked off the three pods. Once he brought them back down, all the Oompa-Loompas started jumping for joy. I admit, I joined in, too.

Everyone immediately packed up their supplies and started heading back to the village to bring the good news of the cocoa pods. I asked them why they were so overjoyed to find a few cocoa pods, and Mimoo explained to me that it’s because cocoa beans are the best tasting thing on the island (which I couldn’t argue with), and that they normally were only able to harvest three or four cocoa pods a year. I told them that, where I come from, I use millions of cocoa beans a day, causing them to stare at me, mouths gaping open. They insisted that I was a manifestation of a god from the heavens, but I insisted that I wasn’t, and that it’s very easy to come by cocoa beans in some parts of the world.

Once we arrived back at the village and the cocoa pods had been shown for all to see, there was once again uproarious celebration. The chief then came out of his treehouse, was handed the three cocoa pods, and brought them into another treehouse I’d never been in before. I followed some Oompa-Loompas into the unexplored treehouse, and I realized it was a sacred prayer chamber of some sort. On the wall, rudimentary pictures of cocoa pods painted on wood were hung up. One of the harvested cocoa pods was placed on a podium, and all the Oompa-Loompas inside the room were bowing down to it, thanking Kookoo-Makoray for this blessing.

At this point, I guess I should explain the Oompa-Loompas’ religion. It’s a ditheistic religion, meaning they believe in two gods. There’s Kookoo-Makoray, the god of creation and life—including plants, animals, and man—and there’s Timpto-Toolay, the god of destruction and death. Bear in mind, Kookoo-Makoray isn’t inherently good, and Timpto-Toolay isn’t inherently evil; both do their part in this world, and both are equally as important. There can’t be creation without destruction, and vice versa.

Later that night, we all gathered around the bonfire for a celebration for the gift Kookoo-Makoray had bestowed upon them. Mimoo wore a mask shaped like a cocoa pod, and started dancing around, shaking rattles that were also shaped like cocoa pods. Meanwhile, all the Oompa-Loompas around the fire were either playing drums, playing rattles, or simply just dancing along.

After the celebration, things settled down, and thus, here we stand. Or sit, rather, as I am right now in my treehouse as I’m writing this. I’m really tired now, so I’ll write back in the near future. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	7. Logs 14-15

Log 14

Today is the day after I wrote my last log. The Oompa-Loompas cut open the cocoa pods and harvested all the cocoa beans from inside. Then, they piled the beans in heaps inside a special treehouse so that the beans could ferment.

As they were doing this labor, they all joined in song and dance, and it is here that I should perhaps emphasize something I haven’t much before in my logs. The Oompa-Loompas love to sing and dance, and it is an integral part of their everyday lives. I mentioned their ceremonious song and dance, but they engage in musical celebration all while working as well. It makes the time pass by quicker, it makes the labor less intensive, and it often takes their mind off of all the deadly dangers that await them in the jungle.

And as I am becoming more and more familiar with the Oompa-Loompese language, the more I’m starting to realize that their songs that they sing throughout the day are mostly improvised. Yes, the Oompa-Loompas are masters at improvisation—both in song _and_ dance. I’m not sure exactly how they do it either. My only explanation is that possibly the Oompa-Loompas almost have linked minds—as if they have a clear instinct on what all the other Oompa-Loompas are thinking—or they are all like-minded. This is not to say that none of the Oompa-Loompas have varying personalities—they do indeed, and I have noticed this more and more—just that they probably have a very good sense of other Oompa-Loompas’ thoughts, at least when it comes to song and dance. It’s certainly a mystery to me, as this is all speculation.

Anyways, this evening, we gathered around the bonfire once more. The chief, Opo Landis, likes to recite old Oompa-Loompa legends around the bonfire, and tonight, he explained the Oompa-Loompas’ perception of the afterlife. After an Oompa-Loompa dies, they pass on to a spiritual realm known as Yoortsha—in which they will have tons of cocoa beans to eat and won’t ever have to see another monster again. I assume this idea makes death a lot easier to deal with for the Oompa-Loompas. Once every full moon, the Oompa-Loompas will conduct a ritual dance to communicate with those who have passed on to Yoortsha.

After that, we all went up to our treehouses to get some sleep, so I think I’ll be doing that right now as well. Until next time, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 15

Today, I stayed at the village while the men went out collecting more food. While staying in the village, the children Oompa-Loompas wanted to play with me. We played a game called “gimpoo-hoopa”, which means “rock fun”. The rules to the game are quite simple: everyone stands in a circle and throws a small rock to the person to their left as fast as they can. If the person on their left catches it, they throw the rock to the next person. If the person doesn’t catch it, they’re out. Each time someone gets out, everyone in the circle spreads out more until only one person is remaining, and they are declared the winner. It was a fun, if not simple, game. The children certainly seemed to enjoy my participation.

After that, Jasoo took me to a more secluded area of the treetop village. She told me this is where Oompa-Loompas stay to relax and immerse themselves in nature’s more delicate creatures. At first I didn’t quite understand her, because so far, none of the creatures I’ve seen on this island can be described as “delicate” besides the caterpillars. But then I noticed a beautiful bird fluttering amongst the branches. It looked like a toucan with red plumage, a pink neck ruff, a light red head, and a pink beak. It was so enthralling in its innocence—the way it paid no mind to me and went on with its day. It’s a rare thing to experience with the animals on this island.

I sat there for quite a while, and I noticed some other amazing birds amongst the treetops. There was a parrot-like bird that had purple feathers, a blue-feathered head, and a black beak. Another bird had green feathers on its body, orange feathers on its tail, yellow feathers on its head, and an orange beak. All wonderfully brilliant colors that you wouldn’t be able to find in birds anywhere else in the world.

I was also surprised to see some monkeys swinging along the branches. Jasoo later told me that they all love the monkeys, which they call “popos”, the children especially. They like to give them snozzberries every once in a while for them to eat.

After the children spotted me watching the creatures of the treetops, they told me to follow them, as they had something to show me. We went down to the forest floor, and they inspected several bushes until they told me to come over there. They showed me a tiny frog; it was purple with a magenta underbelly and cyan hands and feet. They told me not to touch it, though, as it’s poisonous. Some other children called me over to another bush. They found another frog; this one was blue with a green head, a yellow underbelly, and little black spots all over. This one, I was warned, was poisonous, too.

Soon after, the men came back with more red beetles, pixa plants, bong-bong bark, and green caterpillars. Speaking of the caterpillars, I was talking with Jasoo as she was preparing the food for her family, and I learned more about these caterpillars (which, by the way, they call “hoohoos”). Apparently, the ones that have alternating green-and-yellow horizontal stripes down their body are the males, and the white ones with red vertical stripes down their body are the females. Don't ask me how they know that, because I'm not really sure myself. Also, when the caterpillars turn into butterflies, they are a supposedly amazing sight to behold, as they are luminous in the darkness of night.

Later that evening, we all gathered around the bonfire; however, Opo Landis asked something of me that was completely unexpected: he asked me to tell the tribe a story from where I come from. I was happy to oblige, I just had to think of a story to tell. Eventually, I decided to tell them a fairy tale—a fairy tale that dates back thousands of years ago, and is a part of almost every culture in the world in some variation—Cinderella. I told them the story of Cinderella in their language to the best of my ability, since they don’t have words for stepmother or stepsister or fairy or godmother or pumpkin or carriage or glass or king or prince, so I had to explain what all those meant in a way they’d understand, but they still seemed to respond to the story quite well. Especially the children. The Oompa-Loompas had a hard time wrapping the idea around their heads of why someone like the evil stepmother could be so cruel to someone, let alone a family member. If only they knew what I had to live through. I guess when you’re living in a jungle where you could essentially get eaten at any moment, there’s no time or energy to be cruel to fellow Oompa-Loompas.

I’ve always had a fascination with the story of Cinderella, ever since I first heard it when I was a very small child. I believe it was my father who first told the story to me—one of the few good memories I have with him. I guess my fascination with the story stems from the fact that, in a lot of ways, I can relate to Cinderella. My father was my Lady Tremaine, so to speak. Always looking down upon me, discouraging me, lowering my self-image, grasping onto me, making sure I never reach the outside world as far as he can control. He never let me go out to play with my friends (of which I had very few); he instead kept me inside the house, tasking me with chores to keep myself busy. Because of this, I guess Cinderella served as a beacon of hope to me. That even if my current situation seems irredeemable and hopeless, there’s still that shining glimmer of hope that I can end up somewhere I want to be. And I did. My chocolate factory. Much like Cinderella, I rose up from the proverbial (and literal) cinders and became someone. There’s a phrase from Cinderella herself that has continued to inspire me: “No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.” Until next time, Willy Wonka.


	8. Logs 16-17

Log 16

Today, there was another whangdoodle attack at the village. It happened just as a couple Oompa-Loompas were arriving at the village with more water in their jugs from the river. Now, you’re probably expecting me to tell you that this was a terrible tragedy and that I feel so guilty that I didn’t do anything. Well, you’re wrong! Ha ha! Once I saw the whangdoodle lunge out from the bushes, I ran as fast as I could to the wingochanga supply in one of the treehouses, ignited one, and threw it down at the whangdoodle down below before it had the chance to kill those two Oompa-Loompas (Jasoo and Gersoodle). I’m so proud of myself! I haven’t been this proud of myself since…a very long time. I know it sounds kinda pathetic, but it really hurt me whenever I couldn’t help someone from being killed. And, thanks to Jeembo teaching me how to use a wingochanga, I can help now! Everyone congratulated me for saving Jasoo and Gersoodle and treated me as a hero of the village.

Wingochangas are sadly not a hugely useful defense tactic in this jungle, however. They’re rather bulky, making them hard to carry around. The only reason Mahesha and I were saved from the hispmah by the wingochanga was because there was a wingochanga tree nearby. Another thing is that you have to ignite them using a special type of rock, striking it against the top of the wingochanga, so sometimes, you won’t be able to even ignite it on time. Honestly, I was just lucky more than anything that I managed to ignite the wingochanga before anyone was hurt by the whangdoodle. Lastly, the wingochangas don’t grow that quickly. They’re more abundant than the cocoa pods, but they still only manage to harvest about ten to twenty a year.

At night, Opo Landis told us another Oompa-Loompa legend around the bonfire. This time, he told us about the first White men to come to Loompaland. Yeah, apparently, I’m not the only one. He said it was very, very long ago. Before even the elders’ great grandparents were born. When the White men found the Oompa-Loompas, they quickly befriended them and sought out the tribe’s help so that they could survive the dangers of the jungle.

The Oompa-Loompas believed them to be the great messengers of Kookoo-Makoray, because with them, they brought a sacred treasure: the cocoa tree. According to the legend, the cocoa trees planted on the island used to be lush and plentiful with cocoa pods, but as time went on, the trees became more and more scarce with cocoa. The White men did not last very long on the island, as they were quickly killed by the island’s monstrous creatures. They were killed so quickly after their discovery that they didn’t even have a chance to chart the island on a map, I presume. But their legacy still lives on through the cocoa trees.

Finally, the legend states that many years later, another messenger of Kookoo-Makoray will come to the island and save the Oompa-Loompas. Me? I’m not sure, but the Oompa-Loompas all insist that I am the future messenger spoken of in the legend. They used today as an example of me being a savior to the Oompa-Loompas, but those were just two of them. How can I possibly save the entire tribe from all the deadly beasts?

Well, anyways, as we were putting out the fire and making our way up to the treetops, some Oompa-Loompas pointed out something to me. They looked like glowing orbs floating throughout the forest. But as I looked closer, I realized that they were luminous butterflies fluttering from flower to flower! The butterflies had glowing, purple wings with orange patterns. Those were the butterflies the green caterpillars turn into that Jasoo was telling me about last night. They truly _were_ an amazing sight to behold!

That’s today in a nutshell, so I’m going to get some shuteye. Until next time, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 17

A new Oompa-Loompa was born today! Her name is Hinger. The last Oompa-Loompa birth before hers occurred just before I found the Oompa-Loompas, so it seems like a new Oompa-Loompa is born roughly every two weeks. That may sound quite frequent, but more Oompa-Loompas are killed within that time span than there are born, so I’m sorry to say that it seems like the Oompa-Loompa population may be slowly dwindling away. But hey, let’s not dwell on the negative. It could just be a slow month for births.

Tonight, Opo Landis asked me to tell another story to all the Oompa-Loompas. But this time, he asked that I tell a story about myself, not a made-up story. So, I told them the story of Prince Pondicherry.

About two years after I opened my factory in Gumpshire, Prince Pondicherry sent me a letter, asking me to build him an entire palace made out of chocolate in New Delhi, India.

Now, of course, Prince Pondicherry isn’t an actual prince. Official Indian princes and emperors were deposed in the 19th century. He’s a Bollywood movie star, and “Prince Pondicherry” is only his stage name, taken from his home city, Pondicherry.

To be honest, I was kinda intimidated by the project. Could an entire palace really be constructed out of just chocolate? Well, I wasn’t going to say “no” to him. At worst, the project just wouldn’t be feasible. At best…well, it’s a palace made of chocolate! Is there anything more awesome than that? I was willing to take the risk.

We used a special kind of chocolate that has a higher melting point than regular chocolate so that it could withstand the warm climate of India. And the project was actually successful! We managed to build the entire palace—100 rooms and all! But I knew it wouldn’t last very long.

The chocolate wasn’t as powerful as my Never Melting Ice Cream, so if it got to a certain temperature, it would melt just like any other chocolate. I told this to Prince Pondicherry, but he didn’t listen. I flew back to Gumpshire the following day, and I eventually found out on the news that Prince Pondicherry’s palace had melted, since it was an extremely hot day in India, and he was left standing in a pool of chocolate.

He soon telegrammed me, demanding me to build him another palace, this time with even stronger chocolate, but I had to refuse his offer. I had more important things to worry about. Things that I don’t want to think about anymore.

The Oompa-Loompas seemed to enjoy my story quite a lot. They marveled at the idea of a chocolate palace, and they told me they would’ve definitely listened to my instructions to eat the palace rather than live in it.

And that’s where my day comes to an end. I’ll probably write back tomorrow night. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	9. Logs 18-19

Log 18

Three Oompa-Loompas—Bibla, Foonkoo, and Yipshee—were sadly killed today by a snozzwanger while harvesting food on the other side of the lake. I unfortunately had no way of helping them, because I was staying at the village today, continuing my language lessons (both spoken and sign) with Jasoo. Everyone, including I, was heartbroken at the news, but luckily, tonight was a full moon, meaning we were going to communicate with those who passed on to Yoortsha.

It started off like any other celebration of life for an Oompa-Loompa who died (for Bibla, Foonkoo, and Yipshee), but then we began the Yoortsha-channeling ritual. It started off very energetically, similar to the cocoa celebration I spoke of earlier, with extravagant dancing, drum beating, and chanting. Then, it took a surprising turn as everyone stopped dancing and singing, and they all became extremely quiet. They all sat still with their eyes closed, as if in a state of meditation. This lasted for about half an hour, until everyone was ready to end the ritual.

Tonight was a very interesting experience. It was unlike anything else I had experienced with the Oompa-Loompas. And, strangely enough, I actually did feel a sense of spirituality as it was all going on. Like I _was_ somehow closer to the spirit world. It was almost tangible. It can’t be described in words; the only way to truly know what I am speaking of is to experience it for yourself.

I’m pretty tired now from all the celebrating, so I’ll write back tomorrow. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 19

In the morning, today, the Oompa-Loompas took the cocoa beans out from their fermentation hoard and spread the beans across a surface they created in the treetops. This particular surface was intentionally placed out in the sun so that the beans can dry. They told me they have to let the beans dry out for about ten days.

Tonight, the Oompa-Loompas wanted me to tell them more about myself. They said they wanted it to be more personal than the story I told them two nights ago. I’m not an extrovert. That’s something about me that’s noticeable the minute you meet me. I don’t like to share a lot about myself, especially after the spies. But the Oompa-Loompas are different. I feel an innate kinship with them, and I’ve grown so close to them over these roughly two and a half weeks, so I didn’t mind telling them about my personal life and my family.

I started back as far as I’m aware of: my great grandfather, Wolfgang Wonka. Or rather, Wolfgang Wahnker. He was an immigrant from Germany and arrived in the US in 1905, where his surname was anglicized to “Wonka”. He settled in the small New England town of Gumpshire, Massachusetts and started his own dentistry, which would later become the family business.

I’m not fond of my father or my grandfather, but my great grandfather was always something of a role model to me. I didn’t know him for very long, since he died when I was fairly young, but from the small time I did have the privilege of knowing him, I realized just how warm and loveable he was. Needless to say, that’s something that didn’t carry over into the following two generations. And unlike his son or grandson, he did justice to the field of dentistry.

Once he did pass away, all of him that was left behind were the pictures of him in my childhood home. They were pictures of him in his prime, in the early years of him living in America. In them, he always wore a top hat, a frock coat, a waistcoat, gloves, and a cane.

Anyways, in 1907, Wolfgang gave birth (well, his wife did, technically) to my grandfather, Walter Wonka. Walter followed his father’s footsteps and became a dentist, even taking up the same building his father had. Then, in 1931, my father, Wilbur Wonka was born. He, too, inherited the dentist business along with the same building.

While my great grandfather was a perfect example of what a dentist _should_ be, my grandfather and father are disgraces to the dental profession. While Wolfgang was kind and gentle to his patients, it’s a wonder how my grandfather and father even kept the business afloat. I mean, who wants their teeth done by the Marquis de Sade?

Then, on June 9th, 1963, William Wonka was born. Me. My father wasn’t always horrible to _me_ , however. My mom died to pneumonia when I was one and a half years old, and so my father tried his best to be a suitable parental figure in my early childhood. It wasn’t until I was five years old that it all started, when I expressed a high disinterest in dentistry and vowed I would never become a dentist. I didn’t know _what_ I wanted to become, but I knew for sure it would not be a dentist. He probably brushed it off as the ramblings of a young child, but it must’ve still affected him, because around that time is when he started to treat me…differently.

It started off in a seemingly innocent way—he’d just tell me to stop playing with my friends to come inside and sweep the floors, or something to that effect. But that soon grew into, like I mentioned in a previous log, him never letting me go outside (besides school, of course) and constantly assigning chores for me to do around the house.

Then, the worst thing came. When I was eight years old, my father decided it was time for me to get braces on my teeth. But these weren’t those little braces that fit perfectly in front of each tooth so that you can still fully close your lips. These braces were connected to this huge, cage-like headgear that went fully around my face and cranium. He said the reasoning for this was that my teeth needed a lot of work, but I know the real reasoning for doing so was to further ostracize me from the outside world.

Looking back at it now, I wonder why he _did_ want to keep me as far away from the outside world as possible. What did he think would happen to me if I stayed out there too long? Did he think I’d learn that he (and dentists in general, for that matter) did not have the best reputation? Did he think that surrounding me in his sterile world of dentistry would somehow entice me into it? Did he not want me to get ahold of sweets of any kind?

My father never let me have any candy. That’s one thing that never did change about him. I remember times when my great grandfather would come over to visit us, and he’d always try to sneak a candy to me, knowing how strict his grandson was, but my father still ended up catching us before I could have a try. Every year, in a cruel twist of his normal practices, he would let me go out trick-or-treating with my friends on Halloween…on one condition. Once I came back home, he would always throw my Halloween candy into the fire. And he enjoyed every minute of it. Reflecting on it now, I guess I could have always eaten the candy while I was still out with my friends. I wonder why I never _had_ done that. Perhaps I just couldn’t stand breaking the rules.

His Halloween candy burn fest backfired one year, though. I was ten years old at the time, and the day after Halloween, he told me to clean the fireplace. But while cleaning it, I noticed something resting on the ash-covered ground. I picked it up and saw that it was a malted milk ball, partly wrapped in foil. I had been increasingly upset at his candy incineration every year, so by this year, I was fed up. I was finally going to break the rules. I looked around to make sure he wasn’t around, then I took my first bite into a sweet for the first time in my life! Oh, it was perfect! I didn’t think it was possible for anything to taste so good! I was hooked after that.

I was soon buying as many sweets I could get my hands on afterschool each day, and I was so fascinated by their sensational sweetness that I wrote down the unique taste of each one in a little notepad as I ate them. I finally knew what I wanted to do—I wanted to be a chocolatier.

I was very nervous to tell my father this, of course, because I knew he would disapprove. He wanted me to continue the family business, but I think I would’ve died (physically and/or spiritually) had I gone down that path. So, I made sure I had a backup plan. If he didn’t approve of my plans to become a chocolatier (which was more than likely), I would just run away and do it myself. And that’s pretty much what happened.

I vowed to run away to the “candy capitals of the world”—Switzerland and Bavaria and the sort—but I quickly found out that it’s actually rather difficult to live in the outside world on my own, especially since I was sheltered from it for so much of my life at that point. Later that day that I ran away from home, I decided that I’d return home with my head held low. It was embarrassing after leaving the house so boldly, but I had nowhere else to go. But…when I came back to where my house was supposed to be…it wasn’t there. My father said he wouldn’t be there when I came back, but I didn’t think he was serious. He was. I was devastated. I didn’t know what to do. I felt more lonely than I ever had before in my life (the braces certainly didn’t help). I just sat down in the middle of the sidewalk and began bawling.

I later took a stroll through the town’s streets, and I eventually came across an orphanage. It was the only place I could think to go at a dark time like this. When I entered the building, I was met with a desolate lobby. I walked upstairs into a vast room filled with empty beds. The orphanage was abandoned. But, hey, it was still a place to sleep, right? I started to get settled in, then I heard someone enter the building. I walked downstairs and saw a fairly young woman. I remember my first time meeting her so vividly.

“Oh, hello, deary. Are you lost?” she softly spoke to me.

“Well, not exactly,” I told her. “My father left me, and now I have no place to live.”

“Is that so? I’m very sorry to hear that. I can’t even fathom how some parents could treat their children so horribly. Well…you could stay here, I suppose. This used to be an orphanage, but I bought the place, and I was planning to convert it into something of a bed and breakfast.”

“You mean…I can stay here…permanently?”

“Well, at least until you find somewhere else to stay. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Willy. What’s your name?”

“Winona Jackson. Pleased to meet you, Willy.”

And that’s how things started. I never did find somewhere else to stay, though; I stayed with Winona until I finished my high school education. While I’m certainly grateful that Winona let me stay at her place for so many years, and she certainly was a kind and generous person, we weren’t exactly what you’d call family. She was always wrapped up in her own business, so there was rarely any time for us to bond with each other apart from meal time, but even then, we had to share the space with others staying at the bed and breakfast. Not to mention, I started getting wrapped up completely into the world of candy starting at age sixteen.

Once I turned sixteen, I got a job at the local sweet shop, Rainbow Candy & Sweets. My initial job was to stretch out the taffy on a hook and to cut the taffy into eatable sizes. I quickly rose up in the ranks, though, and soon enough, I was the manager of the store! This caught the attention of a man by the name of Albert Gutermuth. He was a Bavarian chocolatier, and he was apparently so pleased with the way I was running the store and creating sweets that he offered me to move back to Bavaria with him and become his apprentice. Of course, it was always my dream to travel to one of the chocolate capitals of the world, so I couldn’t refuse that offer. Once I finished high school, I flew straight over to Bavaria to join Albert.

While in Bavaria for about four years, I learned a lot about all the ins and outs of making confectioneries. More than I did while working at Rainbow, for sure. I also learned a lot more about what it takes to run a business. And another very important thing: I got to make connections with Albert’s close friends, who were some of the top minds of the scientific world.

They were working on a top secret project, of which I luckily got to take a sneak peek due to my connection with Albert. They were creating a substance that actually gives a lifelike appearance to inanimate objects. I don’t remember exactly what they had originally planned to use the substance for, but one night, I came up with an idea to use their substance to make chocolate appear as a living being. Little chocolate birds, specifically, that could actually hatch from little eggs. I told them about my idea, not quite knowing whether or not it was feasible, but they actually made it happen! The first time I saw that little brown bird hatch from the brown-spotted egg, my heart nearly stopped! It was a surreal moment. It was absolutely amazing. I knew right then and there that I could go places with this little idea of mine.

I wanted to start my own business. I always had, right from the beginning, I just couldn’t think of a hook. What could I bring to the table that other chocolatiers couldn’t? That’s what was holding me back before, but now with the creation of the Chocolate Birds, I finally had something that made me unique.

I decided I would create my business in my hometown of Gumpshire. When I moved back there, though, I realized that Rainbow Candy & Sweets had since closed down. This hurt me a little, since the shop was so vital to the birth of my confectionery career, but I decided that in honor of it, I would build my own store on that same property on Cherry Street.

I knew I wanted to create a new image of myself. A unique image. An image that could essentially be part of the Willy Wonka brand itself. In creating this new image, I started wearing violet contact lens to cover up my natural brown eye color. The color purple has always fascinated me. It’s said to be the color of imagination, after all. I also started using an American accent rather than the usual Gumpshire British accent I spoke with before. Then, there was one more aspect to consider: my wardrobe. When I left my father as a kid, one of the few items I took with me in my bag was one of the pictures of my great grandfather in his usual attire. That image had stuck with me for so long that I decided my wardrobe would be based on my great grandfather’s. A top hat, a frock coat, a waistcoat, gloves, and a cane would all be essential to my daily outfit.

So, I then opened up the store. I made a deal with Albert’s scientist friends for them to supply their substance (which I dubbed the “Essence of Life”) to me to create the Chocolate Birds, which I then used to make my Wonka Bars. I soon made a contract with them to become official employees of mine to create new fantastic candies that the world had never created before. These included Never Melting Ice Cream, Everlinger Chewing Gum, Candy Balloons, Cavity-Filling Caramels, and so much more! Of course, I created the ideas; they just found the scientific means to make them a reality.

These absolutely astounding candies, of course, caught the attention of the entire planet, and they all demanded that I build more stores around the world. So, I came up with a plan to open up four more stores around the world—one in New York City, one in San Francisco, one in London, and one in Tokyo. All of them would be larger than the store in Gumpshire. But now with all these stores being constructed around the world, I needed to build a proper chocolate factory so that I could make all the candy there to distribute it to the other stores. Not only that, but people wanted to be able to buy Wonka Bars at any candy store, at any convenience store, in any country in the world. So, by creating a factory, I was killing two hornswogglers with one wingochanga.

When deciding the location for the factory, I had only one place in mind: once again, my hometown of Gumpshire. There was a huge empty lot on the top of the huge hill that is the town, so I bought that property for the location of my factory. But even _that_ wasn’t enough space for what I had in mind for my factory, so we ended up making the majority of it underground so I could have all the space I want.

The factory was a perfect place, both for myself and my employees. There are many recreational rooms, such as a gym and a swimming pool; many ingredients, produce, and livestock are grown freshly within the factory; and I made sure that each and every room in the factory was aesthetically pleasing.

My personal scientists continued their work for me in the factory. I continued to apply the Essence of Life they invented to other candy creations such as Sluggles, Whipped Wingers, Nerds, and Square Candies That Look Round.

Their greatest breakthrough was genetically modifying animals so that they produce candy. These include Cotton Candy Sheep, Chocolate Milk Cows, Easter Chickens (which produce Chocolate Easter Eggs), and Golden Geese (which produce Chocolate Golden Eggs). They also genetically engineered new plants that produce candy as well, such as Jelly Beanstalks, Candy Apple Trees, Candy Cornstalks, Sour Puckerooms, and Squishy Sploshberries.

Another noteworthy invention of theirs was the factory’s most efficient mode of transportation: the Great Glass Elevator. With the single press of a button, it can go to any room in the entire factory. They also installed a mode where the elevator can launch out of the factory and be controlled by rocket jets, but I have yet to use it.

Yes, things certainly flourished when my factory was open. If it wasn’t completely obvious by now, I miss my factory terribly. I miss the security of my factory. I miss its pristine condition. I miss the sweet smell of chocolate and other confectioneries. At this point, though, I don’t expect to ever get off this island. Carl is most likely dead by now, and I don’t know the first thing about sailing a ship, let alone repairing one. Oh, well. At least the Oompa-Loompas are a pleasant crowd to spend the rest of my life with.

Anyways, back when I still only had that one store on Cherry Street, another candy maker, Freddy Ficklegruber, soon established his own store right across the street from mine, obviously to cash in on the success of my store. The difference being that he sold strictly ice cream. His store wasn’t nearly as successful as mine, but that didn’t stop other rip-off candy makers to start moving in as well. Petey Prodnose and Sammy Slugworth quickly set up their own shops next to Ficklegruber’s; however, both of them sold all sorts of candy, not just ice cream like Ficklegruber. They were never a threat to me, since I knew how much all of them were struggling just to stay in business. That is until after I came back from India.

Once I came back, I was alerted that all the other candy makers in town were starting to sell some of _my_ products! I didn’t believe this at first, but I soon saw it for myself. Ficklegruber was selling Never Melting Ice Cream, Prodnose was selling Everlinger Chewing Gum, and Slugworth was selling Candy Balloons! They had sent in spies dressed as normal Wonkateers, and they secretively stole some of the recipes and gave them to the other candy makers.

Although, if I’m being perfectly honest, this was ultimately my fault. I had made the utterly amateur mistake of not patenting my candy inventions, which allowed them to sell the products themselves completely legally. I guess I just had too much faith in the world at that time. I’m just glad none of them stole the recipe for the Essence of Life.

Obviously, with the thieves being spies, it was near impossible for me to know specifically who was a spy and who wasn’t, so I ultimately fired all my workers and closed my factory off to the public.

Luckily, the rest of the world didn’t approve of these other candy makers stealing my ideas, so they stopped buying candy products from Ficklegruber, Prodnose, and Slugworth, and they have since gone out of business. Well, except for Slugworth—I believe he’s still around, making cheap candies that you buy at the dollar store; he’s just faded into obscurity.

That was all I told the Oompa-Loompas about my personal life, of course simplified into a way in which they can understand in their language. They enjoyed hearing about my life immensely, and to be quite honest, I enjoyed telling them. Obviously, I enjoyed revisiting my life so much (with the exception of some moments) that I rewrote what I told them in this log. This is, without a doubt, my longest log yet, and it actually took me over the course of two evenings to write it, so I’m quite exhausted now. I’ll catch you up later. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	10. Logs 20-22

Log 20

Today, the Oompa-Loompas fixed the bridge that I and the rest of the ship crew had broken when we first arrived on the island, because they wanted a quick access to the beach. Once they had fixed it, some of them went off to gather some food from the beach; however, when they came back about an hour later, they brought back Carl Samson with them. Yeah. I was pretty shocked. When he saw me, he said, “Willy! You’re alive! All this time, I thought you were dead!”

“So did I!” I told him in response.

During the time he was on the beach, he used an emergency raft that was stored on the SS Albatross to go out and catch fish in the ocean using a makeshift spear. And it rains quite often in Loompaland, so he just collected the rain water to drink. Unfortunately, with the rain comes frequent thunderstorms, so the weather conditions were quite brutal for him on the beach. He used many distress signals to alert any ships, such as flares, smoke signals, and a mirror to reflect sunlight. Carl said that I should join him so that we could both be saved if any ship comes this way.

I wanted to. I really did. But I also felt horrible about leaving the Oompa-Loompas behind if we ever did get rescued. We had grown so close that I couldn’t bear to leave them here on this deathtrap of an island. Carl seemed to understand this, as even in the short time span he knew the Oompa-Loompas, he could tell they were such a wonderful group of people. I started to think if there was any way that things could work out, and then I suddenly put two and two and two and two together—the Oompa-Loompas hate the disgusting food they have to eat here, they hate all the terrible beasts that can kill them in seconds, they love cocoa beans, and _I’m_ looking for a workforce in my factory to replace my old one. You can probably see where I’m going with this.

I went straight to Chief Opo Landis’s treehouse to have a chat with him. I told him (in Oompa-Loompese sign language, of course), “My friend and I are going to be signaling for help so we can get off this island. Hopefully, we will, and I can live in my factory again.”

He told me in response, “I’m very happy for you. This tribe has never been happier since you came, and it was great having you live with us. I hope you make it back home to your factory.”

I then continued to tell him, “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about, though. Come live in my factory. You can have all the cocoa beans you want! I will even pay your wages in cocoa beans if you wish!” Then, on behalf of the entire Oompa-Loompa tribe, Opo Landis shuck hands with me in agreement.

So, some of the Oompa-Loompas joined Carl on the beach to act as ship scouts, where they’ll continue to use distress signals. Once they _do_ spot a ship coming our way, they’ll alert everyone back at the village so we can all make our way to the beach and be rescued. And Carl is going to be living here in the village with the rest of us each night from now on. They already made him his own treehouse. I’ll write back if I have any updates. Until then, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 21

Well, it’s been three days since my last log, and still no luck; we’re still all back at the village, waiting for any news from the ship scouts. The Oompa-Loompas all insist that a ship will come to save us soon, though. I wish I could be as optimistic as they are right now. I mean, the Oompa-Loompas said themselves that the last time anyone else came to this island was many, many years ago. What are the chances that any other ships will come anywhere near here again so soon?

I hate for this log to be so negative, but that wouldn’t have been the case had I not gotten my hopes up in the first place. I should have never taken the news of Carl being alive as a guarantee that we will get off this island. I hate for this log to be so short as well, but I honestly can’t think of much else to say. The days have been pretty slow lately. The entire tribe has just been anticipating the arrival of any ships, since they want to get off this island just as badly as Carl and I do—especially after hearing how wonderful my factory is. I can’t blame them one bit. Anyways, until any further updates, Willy Wonka.

* * *

 Log 22

This morning, I was woken up by an Oompa-Loompa yelling, “Boat! A Boat is here! Everyone, come to the beach quickly!” Of course, not in English, but in Oompa-Loompese. The entire treetop village lit up with uproarious chatter among the Oompa-Loompas, and I scrambled out of my treehouse with all my belongings as fast as I could. I told the Oompa-Loompas to bring some green caterpillars, snozzberries, and pixa leaves with them to the beach, because I might end up making some candies using them. Who knows? Better to be safe than sorry.

Once we all arrived at the beach, we _did_ see a ship arriving in our direction—of course, it only looked like a small black dot near the horizon at that point. Then, I quickly realized something: I can’t let the people on that ship see the Oompa-Loompas. Carl signed a contract before going on this trip stating that he cannot disclose any information about this expedition or any of the findings from it to the public, so I didn’t have to worry about him, but the people on that ship did not sign such a contract. I couldn’t let the rest of the world know about the Oompa-Loompas. If they _did_ find out about them, they’d want to take them away from me, and I couldn’t let that happen. I don’t think the Oompa-Loompas would want that to happen, either.

So, what is there to do? Do we just ignore the ship and move back permanently into the deadly jungles? Or do we just face the problem head-on and hope for the best? The ship was getting closer, so there wasn’t much time to decide. Luckily, I didn’t have to go with either one of those decisions, because I remembered that we had brought large crates onboard the Albatross. Carl and several of the Oompa-Loompas helped me bring out the crates from the shipwreck, then all the Oompa-Loompas started to file into them. I felt really bad doing this to them, but I told them that the situation is only temporary and that it was for the best.

As the ship was getting closer, we realized it was a cargo ship. Once it reached the beach, one of the crew members came down from the ship and asked us what happened. We told him that our ship wrecked on this island after a storm and that we have since been on the beach, signaling for a ship to find us. We asked him if we could bring our crates onboard, and he said, “Yes,” so the crates were put onto the ship using cranes. He asked me what were in the crates out of curiosity, and I just said they were some ingredients from the island. So, after that, we were off.

The captain of the ship told me that they were on their way to Kandla (an Indian seaport) to deliver some supplies, but they were faced with a harsh sea storm, sending them off course, where they then spotted our distress signals. But now, of course, they’re back on track to Kandla. I told him that we actually have to get to Kanyakumari, so they're going to be dropping us off there on their way.

That’s pretty much all the updates I have for now. I can’t believe we were actually saved! Now, all we have to worry about is getting home safely. Hopefully, that won’t be a problem. Once we arrive at Kanyakumari, all the Oompa-Loompas and I will take my private jet back to Gumpshire, and we’ll all move into the factory. I think this will be my last log on this journey, but I will be sure to write one last one to fill you in on how the Oompa-Loompas have adapted to life in the factory. Until then, Willy Wonka.


	11. Log 23

Log 23

It’s been about a year since I’ve last written in this journal. To be honest, I kinda forgot about it until I found the journal again a couple days ago, so I guess it’s a perfect time for me to close it off with one more log describing how things have changed here at the factory since the Oompa-Loompas moved in.

I wanted the Oompa-Loompas to feel right at home here at the factory (you know, except for the part with the deadly creatures and the disgusting food), so I constructed ten Oompa-Loompa Village Complexes throughout my factory for them to live in. They’re all modeled after the treetop village they lived in back in Loompaland, except the treehouses are all constructed out of yellow fiberglass, and they all include more elaborate furniture inside.

In addition, I changed the factory’s boat system from being a small steamboat to being a replica of the boat the Oompa-Loompas used back on the island. The only difference being that _this_ boat is made out of pink candy.

We added an Oompa-Loompa Marketplace, where the Oompa-Loompas can access all of our meat and produce that is freshly grown within the factory. Another new addition is the Oompa-Loompa School, where the young ones learn all the ins and outs of what it takes to run the factory.

I designed an outfit for all the Oompa-Loompas to wear while working in the factory. It’s a PVC suit with a black-and-white-striped undergarment and black shoes. Their hair is styled to resemble a squiggly curlicue. Their PVC suits come in eleven different colors: red, orange, yellow, light green, dark green, light blue, dark blue, purple, pink, black, and white. The color of their suit is dependent upon the room they are currently working in. For example, the suits in the Chocolate Room are red, the suits in the Inventing Room are black, and the suits in the Fizzy Lifting Drinks Room are dark blue.

Ever since they’ve moved into the factory, I started to teach the Oompa-Loompas how to speak English. They’re all very quick learners, so now, all the Oompa-Loompas can speak English fluently. Not only that, but the Oompa-Loompas have since all insisted that they go by English names now. So, Kampo is now Bob, Heekle is now Jerry, Feekee is now Susan, Jasoo is now Doris, and so on.

I left Loompaland with one hundred sixty-five Oompa-Loompas, but since there are no predators here in the factory, their numbers have since been growing, which is good, because I need a lot of employees for my factory. Right now, I think we’re at about two hundred fifty Oompa-Loompas. Once we get enough Oompa-Loompas here, I think their birth rate will go down so they can keep a balanced population.

The Great Glass Elevator system has now been equipped with an Oompa-Loompa-accessible mode. Each glass elevator station now has two buttons—one to call an elevator designed for me, and another one to call an elevator designed for the Oompa-Loompas. The Oompa-Loompa elevator has all the buttons located near the bottom on three of the walls, rather than all the buttons covering the entirety of one wall, like in the elevator designed for _my_ use.

Our special Oompa-Loompa scientists are currently continuing to study all things science—chemistry, biology, physics, etc.—so that they can have the means to turn my candy ideas into a reality. Like I said before, the Oompa-Loompas learn very quickly, so they’re already quite experienced in their studies, and they’ve already started working on bringing some of my ideas into fruition. They also have access to all the documents my past scientists wrote when creating their inventions so that they can build upon what they discovered.

I’ve created some new candies ever since the Oompa-Loompas moved in. They requested that I use some of the ingredients I got from Loompaland in my new candies, so that’s exactly what I did. I’m personally not too fond of the taste of snozzberries, but the Oompa-Loompas insisted that it’s just an acquired taste and that I should still use its flavor in a few of my candies. So, I created three new Wonka Bars: Succulent Snozzberry, Dark Succulent Snozzberry, and White Succulent Snozzberry. That brings my Wonka Bar total to two hundred four. I also added snozzberries to my Lickable Wallpaper along with all the other fruits.

Another one of my new candies is called Pixy Stix, which is basically flavored candy powder. Its name comes from the fact that the powder is made from ground up pixa leaves, just like the Oompa-Loompas did back in Loompaland. Flavoring is then added to the powder to make it taste good. It comes in four flavors: Cherry, Orange, Maui Punch, and Grape.

Finally, we’re currently working on a new candy called Luminous Lollipops. As their name implies, they’re lollipops that glow in the dark. I got the idea after seeing the wonderful luminous butterflies in Loompaland. Luckily, the Oompa-Loompas brought some green caterpillars with them, so we actually raise the caterpillars in the factory so they can grow into the luminous butterflies. My scientist Oompa-Loompas are currently developing a machine that will be able to take luminous butterflies, extract their luminous properties, and put that luminescence into the lollipops. Hopefully, everything will work out.

Other than all that, I think that’s about it. Ever since I opened my factory back up, the world has gone crazy! Everyone is ecstatic that I’m making candies again, and I’m making higher sales than I ever have before! It seems like everything is good again in the world. Or at least, in the world of Willy Wonka candy. The people are happy I’m making candy again, I’m happy I get to continue making candy without having to worry about spies, and the Oompa-Loompas are happy they don’t have to eat revolting food or have to worry about predators anymore. Life really couldn’t be better right now. I’m thinking back to what the Oompa-Loompas told me back in their homeland—that I was the one spoken of in their prophecy that would come save the tribe. I didn’t believe it at all then, but I guess I did end up saving the tribe in a way, didn’t I? Well, I guess this Willy Wonka signing off from the “Loompaland Log” one final time. So long!


End file.
